The Naughty Nightie
by mimijag
Summary: Prompt : Show Era-"Sybil's naughty nightie" - When she is packing to go to York she folds up a very sheer looking garment! How did she get it? Why was she packing it? And what is Tom's reaction? (I would love him to catch sight somehow in York, but that might be unrealistic, so whenever the author likes)


Prompt : Show Era-"Sybil's naughty nightie" - When she is packing to go to York she folds up a very sheer looking garment! How did she get it? Why was she packing it? And what is Tom's reaction? (I would love him to catch sight somehow in York, but that might be unrealistic, so whenever the author likes)

Merry Christmas Syblime! I hope you'll like this piece. It was challenging to meet with all your specifics but it was fun. Thank you to Skinnycat for the beta. x

 **The Naughty Nightie**

Sybil closed the door behind her sisters. She has asked for a few minutes alone in her bedroom before leaving for her training in York. She wanted to enjoy some solitude but most of all she needed to add a special item in her suitcase before William came up to put it down in the car.

She giggled thinking of it remembering how she teased poor Branson with it.

 _ **Flashback**_

 _Sybil flew out of Miss Swann's shop, almost bouncing due to her excitement about what she just did. Her mother had ordered a new outfit for her, one she could easily put on and off without help during her nurse training. But during one of her fittings, her eyes were drawn to a special item in the corner of the shop. It was a beautiful nightie made of silk and lace and that was outrageously transparent. It was war time and she shouldn't have but, for once, she decided to indulge herself. So, today being her last visit to the shop, she came with some money (thank God she always kept some hidden in a box in a drawer) and bought the cloth. And now, it was securely hidden in its package in her hands and she couldn't help the satisfied smile on her face._

 _She walked past Branson who was keeping the door open for her and breathed a "thank you" to him. Once she was seated, he closed the door, and soon enough, they were on the road on their way back. After a while, Tom looked in the rear mirror and chuckled at seeing the satisfied smile on Sybil's face._

" _You look like the cat that just ate the canary," he said, turning briefly to her with a smile._

" _Maybe because I am," she answered, her eyebrows rising up teasingly._

 _Tom shook his head and asked, "Care to share?"_

" _It's a surprise! I can't share it!"_

" _A surprise your mother would agree with or a surprise even bigger than your blue harem pants?"_

" _Who said it is a surprise for my mother or family?"_

 _It was Tom's turn to raise his eyebrows but in wonder. Sybil chuckled._

" _Oh my Mother will love the outfit she chose for me. It's boring as usual…But…will you keep a secret, Branson?"_

" _Of course I will! You know that!"_

 _Sybil put on an enigmatic smile and bent over to be closer to him._

" _Then I have to confess that I treated myself to something special…something outrageously scandalous…" she breathed, her mouth only an inch away from his ear._

 _Tom restrained a shiver and Sybil wondered if she wasn't playing with fire. She had realized that they were often flirting lately and she wasn't sure she was ready to take the next step…yet. Nothing had been said between the two of them but, by the way Branson was looking at her or even the way he was holding her hand while helping her in and out of the car, she knew…She knew that feelings were involved even if she hadn't exactly defined them yet._

 _Tom cleared his voice and slightly turned to her again, the car slowing as if it was getting attention to the secret she was about to share._

" _Now, Milady, you have my whole attention."_

 _Sybil shook her head then sat back, crossing her arms on her chest._

" _But surely, it's not something a Lady can share with her chauffeur."_

 _Tom looked in the rear mirror again. Her face looked as if she was indignant, her aristocratic roots at the right place but the ghost of a smile on her lips, showed him she was only playing with him._

" _As if you ever cared about conventions," chuckled Tom. "But as you wish," he finished, shrugging._

 _He reported his attention on the road, and mentally counted how long Sybil would resist her desire to tell him; he knew her so well! She sighed loudly and came close again._

" _You promise to keep it a secret?"_

" _I promise," Tom solemnly declared, lifting his right hand, all smiles._

 _Even if it was only the two of them in the car, Sybil folded her hand and placed it around Tom's ear, the contact making them both shiver_ _ed_ _._

 _And she breathed her secret._

 _And the car made a swerve on the road, as Tom's mind momentary blanked, his eyes wide._

" _Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Sorry!"_

 _He cleared his voice, his throat feeling suddenly dry. Sybil chuckled and challenged him with a stare._

" _So, what do you think? Did I throw conventions away enough for your taste Mr. Branson?"_

 _Tom swallowed as he was still trying to erase the pictures that were coming to his mind._

" _For sure, Milady," he croaked. "And it's definitively not an outfit you'll share with your family."_

 _Sybil laughed._

" _Oh My…if I ever wear it in Downton's hallways, they would all have a fit."_

" _Please, be sure to let me know if you do this…"_

 _Sybil looked surprised and Tom felt his cheeks reddened._

" _I mean…so I can see them have a fit…not you in this…I mean…not that I would mind seeing you in…but…what I mean…" he stammered. "Ok, I'll shut up now."_

 _A wave of warmth ran through her at the thought of Branson being able to see her wearing the thin cloth and, before things became too uncomfortable between them, she just smiled at him and sat back. They both remained silent the rest of the journey, each lost in their own thoughts that, unbeknownst to them, were heading in the same direction._

 _Once at the destination, he helped her down from the car, avoiding her eyes, the picture of her in her described nightie still vivid in his mind._

" _Enjoy the rest of the day, Branson," she said, amused at his discomfort._

 _Tom croaked something before almost running back_ _into_ _to the safety of the car and just let his head down on the wheel, sighing loudly._

" _God…" he thought "Why did she have to share her secret with me?"_

 _He was seeing it so clearly. Her feminine figure only clad in the ghost of tissue, the shadow of her round breasts outlined under it and her nipples…Oh God, please forgive him for this thought but…her nipples hard and brown, trying to escape through their thin barrier, waiting for his hands and mouth to worship them…_

 _He groaned, hitting his head against the wheel, all his blood now down in his groin._

 _The clearing of a throat interrupted his impure thoughts and he jerked his head back up, confused._

" _Something's wrong, Mr. Branson?" asked Carson, seeming concerned for the young man's health._

" _Sorry, Mr. Carson," stammered Tom. "I felt light headed for a moment but it's over now."_

 _Carson frowned; half convinced but let it go._

" _The family is about to get ready for dinner and the Dowager Countess called to say she wasn't coming tonight. So you're off duty. You can have the rest of the day and please, Branson…get some rest."_

" _I will, Mr. Carson," answered Tom before driving away._

" _Great," he thought. "And now I have more free time to think about Sybil and her nightie…just great."_

 _The night promised to be long and he wondered how he would ever be able to face her again without embarrassing himself…_

 _ **End of flashback**_

Sybil went straight to her desk where there was a special hiding place only known to her. She retrieved the precious package from its hiding place and quickly put it in the bottom of her already packed suitcases. Mrs. Hughes was done helping her with it and nobody would open it before she arrived in her bedroom in York's hospital so her secret was safe. It could seem strange to anybody to take such an item where she was going and knowing she probably won't have the opportunity to wear it but she fancied the thought of having it at arm's reach if she ever wanted to treat herself. She knew her training wouldn't be an easy road and she expected things to be hard and dirty. So if she may ever have a night for herself over there, she could already picture herself wearing it after a hot bath, lying lazily on her bed with a good book, to feel being a woman again.

Her suitcases now closed, she crossed her hands behind her back and looked one last time to her childhood bedroom. She knew she'd be a new woman the next time she entered this room. She sighed heavily, squared her shoulders, straightened her chin up then walked out in the hallway, ready to take the next step to her new life.

After the goodbye on the front steps of the house with her mother and sisters, Branson helped her in the car and they drove away. They were silent for most of the drive each respecting the other's mood. Sybil had a lot on her mind but it seemed to her that Branson was in the same disposition. And before she knew it, Branson was parking the car in front of the hospital that was meant to be her home for the next two months. She looked at it with apprehension.

"You're ready?" Branson asked softly.

His words were barely audible but she was startled nonetheless. She turned to him and slowly nodded with an unsure smile. He stepped out of the car and came to open the door for her, realizing it was the last time for awhile that he would be doing it. He helped her out and then took care of her suitcases as she was waiting for him on the pavement. Still in silence, they walked side by side to enter the old building and fell upon injured soldiers doing some exercises in the grass at the center of the building. Sybil realized then what was awaiting her…

Once they reached the entrance leading to her quarters, they stopped face to face and Branson put her suitcases at his feet, looking intently to her. Sybil took a deep sigh.

"Well, it'll be hard to let go. My last link with home."

Still looking right into her eyes, Branson took his cap off, clearly switching from chauffeur to…something else.

"Not as hard as it is for me."

Realizing that Branson's words were more than a goodbye, she tried to warn him.

"Branson…"

"I know I shouldn't say it, but I can't keep it in any longer."

"I wish you would."

Flirting was one thing but a declaration of unconditional love was another. And now wasn't the right time. But Branson went on…

"I told myself and told myself you're too far above me, but things are changing. When the war is over, the world won't be the same place as it was when it started. And I'll make something of myself, I promise."

"I know you will!"

"Then bet on me."

There. He said it.

"And if your family casts you off, it won't be forever. They'll come around," he said with more conviction than he was really feeling. "And until they do, I promise to devote every waking minute to your happiness."

Sybil was looking at him almost gasping, not knowing what to say.

"I'm terribly flattered," was her answer and it's sounded wrong as soon as she said it. Ashamed, she looked down, refusing to cross his eyes.

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because 'flattered' is a word posh people use when they're getting ready to say no."

Sybil shyly laughed.

"That sounds more like you."

"Please don't make fun of me," said Branson very seriously.

"No."

"It's cost me all I've got to say these things."

Branson was clearly waiting for an answer but Sybil stayed silent and even tuned away from him. A wave of deception ran through him and he knew he had only one option left. He played his cards and he lost them all.

"Right," he said, putting his cap back on, reentering his role as a chauffeur. "I'll go. I'll hand in my notice and I won't be there when you get back."

"No, don't do that!" answered Sybil, clearly panicked at the perspective.

"I must. They won't let me stay when they've heard what I've said."

"They won't hear. Not from me."

Not knowing what to make with this last declaration, Branson only nodded and turned around, with a _"good luck"_ hastily breathed. A few seconds later he had disappear from her sight and defeated, she caught her suitcases and started to walk towards the bedroom that had been assigned to her. But, the closer she neared her destination, the less confidence she had in her steps. Maybe because she was realizing that it was taking her away from the man she had feelings for?

His defeated face and his sad eyes were still haunting her mind. She pushed him away when all she wanted was to throw herself into his arms. Was it too late to turn around? Would he have already left York? Would he do as she asked and stay at Downton? How to be sure? She knew she shouldn't expect him to stay after she broke his heart so painfully but, on the other hand, she knew she would be the one with a broken heart if he wasn't there to pick her up in two months.

When she reached the door, she turned the handle and, as the bedroom that would be her world for the next few weeks was revealed to her, she knew what she had to do. She couldn't face two months without being sure he would be there.

Her two suitcases hit the floor with a loud "plop" as she turned around and ran down to the exit, as fast as her feet could carry her. Out of breath, but outside she immediately spotted the car that was slowly driving away so she did the only thing she knew would stop it: she ran faster and threw herself in front of it.

A stunned and scared Branson yelled at her and hit the brakes.

"Milady!" he exclaimed, recognizing Sybil. "What are you doing? I almost hit you! Did you forget something in the car?" he asked, looking on the back seat for some item.

She approached his side of the car and went up on the running board to be at his eye level.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did forget something," she answered.

She saw his quizzical look but before he could say anything else, she reached for the collar of his uniform vest and crushed her mouth against his, kissing him as if her life depended on it. But before he could react, she drew away.

"See you soon, Tom Branson," she said with her raspy voice, her cheeks slightly red.

And then, satisfied with herself, she turned away and went back to the hospital without a glance behind her, hoping that her gesture gave him enough to think about and decide to stay at Downton to wait for her.

A few days passed having them both wondering what this gesture really meant. If Sybil knew that feelings were involved at some point, Tom was unsure. Did it mean she had feelings for him or was it only the whim of a posh girl? He had been very clear with her, stating his intentions. But her kiss was…unexpected for sure. But was it something else? He stayed uncertain a week long…until he received a letter from a certain Cora Pankhurst from York. And he knew instantly it was from her.

In this letter, which he read in the safety of his cottage the same night, she was excusing herself for her unladylike behavior but also that she understood his feelings and that she won't lie to him because she shared them but insisting on the fact that she wasn't ready, that she wasn't quite…there. She needed time. She asked him for time to sort them and she was begging him to wait for her. She said she knew she was asking a lot but she was hoping he'd be there when she returned.

Tom didn't lose any time in answering her. He said he would wait for her forever. This was the beginning of an intensive correspondence between Tom and this Cora (correspondence that rose some eyebrows downstairs) that leaded to a meeting, two weeks later, on their mutual day off.

Things had been awkward at first but they quickly found their easy discussions and banter back. They spent that whole day together, barely talking about the future but enjoying each other's company very much. Tom thought it was like courting her but without touches or kisses involved. At the end of the day, just before Sybil was supposed to get back to her room for the night call, they decided to have dinner in a pub close to the hospital. It was a new experience for Sybil, to have dinner with a man all by herself. And she thought her grandmother would have a fit if she could see her right now. The cider Tom ordered for them both helped her to relax and to make sense of his intense gaze on her. She had spent the day without thinking about his feelings for her but, in the relative intimacy of the dark pub, things were different. They were both seated close enough so that she could feel his arm and leg brush hers from time to time, sending a very welcomed feeling in her body.

She wished she could reciprocate his feelings, show him one way or another that she cared about him. But she simply wasn't ready to acknowledge the fact she was probably as much in love with him as he was with her. Too much was at stake. Several times she was surprised at him suppressing himself to reach for her hand on the table. Damn! She almost reached for him herself! When did things get so complicated?

As they were walking to the hospital afterwards, the conversation slowly came to an end. It was almost time to part and even if Sybil thought the separation would clear their mind a little bit, she was dreading it. She knew she couldn't make a repeat of the kiss but maybe, she could find another way to show him her…love?

Once they were under the porch, the same one where things had gotten a little bit tense two weeks earlier, she had made up her mind. She had an idea and was ready to do it. As they were about to part, Tom thanked her for the day and wished her the best for her training, hoping they would get the chance to meet again before her return to Downton. Sybil happily agreed then went on her tiptoes and lightly kissed his cheek.

"Please, don't leave right away, and look at this window," she said with a light blush on her cheeks while nodding to the building. "I have a surprise for you."

And before he could answer, she was running away, and Tom could swear he could hear her light laugh ring around the porch. Stunned and not knowing what to expect, he stayed on the pavement, his eyes locked on the window she had designated. But he wished she would hurry to display her surprise because he was afraid someone will soon think he was a creepy man spying on the nurses.

A few minutes later, a light yellow glow flooded the window and Tom's heart stopped. As surely as he was the Crawleys' chauffeur, there she was, an angelic apparition contrasting with the grey of the building. She was clad in what looked like a nightie…a very sheer and naughty nightie.

And he knew. It was the one…it was her secret. And Tom could barely breathe as the picture in front of him was even more beautiful and sexy than the ones her teasing had aroused several weeks earlier. She was just perfect, looking like a Madonna. He could guess her figure under the cloth, her rounded breast, her nipples standing in attention. His mind was blank and he couldn't think about the reasons behind her gesture once more surprising.

But the thing he knew when she blew him a kiss through the window before the room went black was that she just gave him hope.

The end.


End file.
